


rest

by thalassashells



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F, this sucks but i wanted to post one more thing before 2016 ended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 21:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9143824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalassashells/pseuds/thalassashells
Summary: Lucia and Ysayle find some time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this sucks forever but like i said i wanted to post SOMETHING. watch me throw it in the garbage like tomorrow.

They often find their moments in the dead of night, this time huddled around a fireplace in Ysayle’s old home of Falcon’s Nest, resting after preparing the former fortress for yet another meeting of dragon and man when the morning came, each of them representatives with immeasurable duty. They must find time to let the stress dissipate, lest they snap under the weight. 

Lucia watches Ysayle as she tends the flames with a long branch, ever so focused. Her pale eyes and hair catch and reflect the golden light, filling her gaze with warmth. Lucia startles her out of her focus, the flames dancing in her eyes seeming to jump with her, by tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

She looks over to her and smiles. The locks behind her ear come loose again (they always do) and she is so beautifully disheveled, like this, in the firelight with her nose bitten red with frost and her easy smile. She's no longer the immaculate Lady Iceheart so many fear and revere, but simply a woman.

Lucia wonders why she was ever afraid.

She doesn't shatter the moment when she leans over to kiss Lucia, but melts into something warmer, the feeling of her lips against Lucia’s own just slightly cooler than a person should be. She is happy to lend her heat. Lucia pushes back against her, encouraging, and she lets out a soft gasp into the kiss, running her fingers through Lucia’s hair before finally pulling back.

They sit for a while longer, Ysayle leaning into Lucia’s shoulder, who picks up her formerly discarded cloak to drape over the two of them. The night would go on without fanfare, the morning would come with ease, and the two of them would fall asleep without anxious hearts.


End file.
